


Icarus never had to fall in love

by littlemisstpk



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Memories, Non-Linear Narrative, POV Third Person Limited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-02-28 16:28:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 5,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18760138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlemisstpk/pseuds/littlemisstpk
Summary: Tenma has a complicated relationship with volleyball, and his senpai.





	1. January 2013

“There is nothing like returning to a place that remains unchanged to find the ways in which you have altered.” - Nelson Mandela

* * *

 

Udai Tenma rapped his fingers along the black, plastic edge of his laptop, the thesis statement of his philosophy paper stared at him like the blockers from Dateko, over-large and looming. As much as he made an effort to not follow high school volleyball after his high school graduation, curiosity still overtook him in July and November, when the Interhigh and the Spring High tournament representatives were announced. It meant that most of the time, he pushed his phone away, disgusted, as he saw the name “Shiratorizawa Academy” listed as the Miyagi representative.

That year, Tenma’s interested was piqued, as instead of seeing the very familiar “Shiratorizawa Academy”, he saw the name of his alma mater, “Karasuno High School”. His heart skipped a beat at the thought, and he remembered clearly being out on center court in Tokyo, looking up into the stands to catch a half-smile that no longer encompassed the world--

Still, despite the bittersweet memories of high school, Tenma knew that he had to go catch at least one game, if he was lucky.

His class schedule was not conducive to going to the Orange Court and watching a game in person, but as Tenma looked ahead to the tentative schedule, he noticed that if Karasuno could hold on until the quarter finals, then he might be able to see them in person. That hopeful person that seemed to eject himself from Tenma’s body at the end of his second year made a tentative return, reminding him,  _ “You made it to the semi-finals five years ago, didn’t you?” _

After several days of furiously checking scores, Tenma exited his Comparative Religion class, and rushed off to catch the train. He quickly put his coat over his shirt and bag, and he was well-aware of how much he looked like a worthless hobo, as his mother did not hesitate to mention every time she saw him. The crowded train was uncomfortable, but it was a mercifully short ride to the stadium, which was bustling with activity.

As Tenma watched the crowd mill about, he wondered how he survived it in high school. With a few steps across the plaza, and a brief look towards Vabo, he remembered that typhoons are calm when you stay within the eye, it’s simply the walls of the storm that buffett you around. He no longer had the luxury of being at the centre of the storm, instead, being thrown about by memories.

Before he could take another step forward, Tenma saw a familiar, too-tall mop of blond hair talking animatedly to another familiar looking blonde in taiko gear.  _ If it is who I think it is, _ Tenma thought, _ then he would know exactly how to deal with being on the sidelines. _

Taking a step forward, Tenma called out, “Tsukishima-san! Is that you?”

The tall blond turned around, and let out a smile that lit up the world after the moment of shock left. Tenma jogged toward the pair, and the smiles on their faces helped him feel like he belonged for the first time since he left Miyagi.


	2. October 2007

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tenma finishes his last volleyball game in high school.

“The truth does not change according to our ability to stomach it.” - Flannery O’Connor

* * *

It was only quarterfinals, but Tenma looked down at the wooden floor of the Sendai Municipal Gymnasium, his dripping tears mixing with the beads of sweat falling from his body. It was an old reflex to look up towards the stands to look for (his) sunny blond senpai who was always there to cheer him on, but it had been months since Tsukishima-san had graduated, and even longer since he saw an unreserved smile from his mentor. The Karasuno cheering section had gone from being formidable to average, just like how Tenma’s skills shaped up against the new version of Dateko, who were now celebrating their win across the court.

As it was, the underlined “1” emblazoned on his chest made Tenma feel like he had let everyone on his team down, and after the required bowing to the other team and to their cheering section, he left to find some solitude. He didn’t care that there were first years visibly falling apart on the court, and that second years were frantically mopping up the mess he created. The third years knew better than to follow him.

As soon as Tenma found a deserted hallway, he sharply leaned against the brick wall, until the sparkling pain that radiated from his forehead distracted him from the tears that were falling from his eyes. He felt the images of last year’s team circling around him in comfort, but a punch to the wall banished them to the ether where they belonged, and Tenma remained alone, like he deserved to be.

(He wasn’t fully alone, he still saw Tsukishima-san’s concerned face, just as he was before he changed after Spring High preliminaries the previous year.)

It was a good thing that they lost, Tenma decided. Then he could no longer delude himself in changing the stars and deciding that a shorty like him could get anywhere in a sport like volleyball. He could have other interests. He  _ must _ have other interests, especially if he was not good enough for volleyball.

That was the only way that Tenma could even hope to survive in the competitive job market.


	3. January 2008

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tenma scores the winning point during nationals.

“Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed, citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.” - Margaret Mead  
  


* * *

 

The ball dropped with finality on the other side of the net, and before Tenma could process his stinging hand, the whistle and the 25 displayed on the Karasuno side of the scoreboard for their quarterfinal match, he found himself looking up at the high, bright ceiling buried under his team-mates. A relieved laugh escaped him, and with another round over and another one waiting for their team, Tenma felt on top of the world, even if his reality was being at the bottom of a pile of sweaty, teenaged boys. Despite his slight preference of boys over girls, the good thing about having the air crushed out of him is that it gave his body no time to react. 

Especially where he had his sights set on one specific boy in particular. Tenma craned his neck upwards until he caught sight of the familiar head of blond hair, and Tsukishima-san looked back at him, his wide, friendly smile not reaching his eyes. In the two years they had known each other, Tenma had seen all sorts of smiles coming from his senpai, from the mischevious one that ignited his skin and drove Tenma to find release in his own hand, to the encouraging smile that left Tenma not wanting to bang his head on things when he felt the first sign of failure. 

The fake smile Tenma currently saw seemed worse than a frown, and effort of learning to see through the mask as they shared their time on the outskirts of the team was wasted. Tenma had difficulty reading his friend and crush, where before he could read him like an open book.  _ Maybe _ , he thought,  _ the pressure of graduating is getting to him.  _

With a cough, Tenma protested his need for air, and eleven other teammates reluctantly rose to their feet to free him from the pile. 

By the time that he stood up, Tsukishima-san was already gone. 


	4. January 2013 - II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tenma watches the current Karasuno team.

“Act as if what you do makes a difference. It does.” - William James

* * *

 

Tenma followed Tsukishima-san into the large complex, trailing a few steps behind as his former senpai and Tanaka-san leaned in and whispered to each other conspiratorially. His heart quickened as Tsukishima-san led him to the court side instead of taking the group to the Karasuno cheering section, his eyes dancing with playful mirth. It was the same smile that made Tenma want to befriend his senpai (and to jump his bones, but that was a different story), in all of their extra practices before he became a regular. It was disconcerting to face that smile when he was not the one helping Tsukishima-san prank the basketball team; instead Tenma felt like he was the one being pranked, not unlike the time he lost his eyebrows in his first year. 

Tanaka-san took her leave, and headed toward the spectator's area. Tenma followed Tsukishima-san, lingering and mingling with some of the other alumni, following the team for the same reason as Tenma. 

It was in the middle of a polite conversation with another alumnus he had never met when he heard Tanaka-san's voice ring out over the din surrounding the Orange Court. “Shouyou! The Little Giant!” Tenma’s ears perked at his old moniker. “He’s here!”

Tenma was mid-sentence when a frighteningly orange bundle of energy burst through the barricades, bearing his own former number. Beyond the fact that this player was spending precious energy on Hell Day to barrel towards him at top speed, Tenma had to incline his neck downwards enough that he was shocked at how short this player was. He was taller than his boy was, even back in his first year, and it was because of his height that he couldn't play competitively after high school. 

Tenma heard Tanaka-san's voice call out, far more close than it previously had been, beckoning the tiny bundle of energy over to where he was standing. Tenma caught a glimpse of the Tsukishima-san's shit eating grin out of the corner of his eye as he lingered by the stairs leading upwards, and Tanaka-san sidled up beside him just as the bundle of orange energy found him. Tanaka-san held out her arms, presenting Tenma as if he were a prize on a game show. “This is Karasuno's number ten, who went to nationals when we were in our second year!” 

Tenma awkwardly chuckled. “Boy, that brings back memories.” The entire building was filled with spectres from five years ago, when life was simple and full of hope. 

He heard an audible gasp, and the animated first year (Shouyou, he remembered) looked absolutely star-struck. The silence was short-lived, and Tenma barely understood the barrage of questions that Shouyou threw at him. It was difficult to let him down with the news he was no longer playing volleyball, and the pain of not being able to continue reared its ugly head once again. Shouyou reminded Tenma of his younger self, when excitement and hard work were enough to fuel his dreams.

Before long, Shouyou’s dour teammate pulled the younger boy away towards the court, and Tanaka-san led Tenma toward the bleachers. Quickly turning around, Tenma called out in encouragement, “Good luck, new ‘Little Giant!’” At being called this, Tenma swore he saw sparkles surround the kid as he tore away to the volleyball court.

Tenma made his way to the stairs, where he saw Tsukishima-san still waiting for him. While Tenma took the first few steps, he racked his brain for something, anything, that could be used as a conversation starter. The solitary nature of being a literature major highlighted how disused his social skills actually were, so when Tenma remembered that Tsukishima-san had a younger brother, he latched onto that idea.

“So your little brother is playing too, Tsukishima-san?”

Tsukishima-san chirped back, “you bet.” He paused on the stairs to turn and face Tenma directly, and Tenma’s heart stopped at the sight of the mischievious glint in the other man’s eyes. “He’s good.”

It was a step back in time, watching and calculating plays as if they were back in high school and Tenma was yet to be a regular, before Tenma had won their unspoken competition to get a regular spot on the team. Even though it was annoying to hear about how wonderful of a volleyball player Tsukishima’s younger brother was (and he truly was, even if the look on his face suggested that there was a distasteful smell on the court at all times), with every spike that Shouyou was able to level against Kamomedai, Tenma found himself longing to be back on the court, getting those points for himself. 


	5. April 2008

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tenma adjusts to life without volleyball.

“Growth is painful. Change is painful. But nothing is as painful as staying stuck where you do not belong.” - N.R. Narayana Murthy

 

* * *

It was different, not having endless practices to attend, and having a modicum of balance in his life once again. Tenma reclined on the tatami mats in his dorm room, thoroughly engrossed in his literature readings that weren't due for several weeks. He was letting the statistics work slide in favour of the particularly philosophical passage he was hungrily reading. 

  
Tenma stretched, and feeling a telltale rumble in his midsection, he set down the novel he was reading to search out some food. He passed by the common room, with one of his upperclassman engrossed in some anime. It made Tenma smile, and it didn't take long for him to be beckoned over.

His upperclassman, Takato, had lighter hair than was typically Japanese, and had a kind smile. When Tenma took his spot to the left of his senpai, he turned his attention to the screen ahead of him, trying to follow along with the circuitous plot. 

  
“For a lit major, you certainly have trouble following a plot.” There was a light teasing tone in the other man's voice. 

Tenma gave a small shrug. “My volleyball coach was demanding. There wasn't exactly time for anything but that, homework, food and sleep.”

  
This statement was met with a look of horror. “You've been deprived!” A bit of shuffling later, and Tenma's personal space was invaded as Takato nearly whispered a running commentary, not loud enough to drown the proceedings on the screen, but enough to be present. If Tenma had leaned any further to the right, Takato's lips would have made contact with his ear, and he would have had to steady himself on the other's thigh. As it was, electricity flowed through his body, radiating from where Takato's breath met his ear, until the tingling spread through Tenma's shoulders, into his forearms, his calves, until the sensation settled into his chest over where his heart made itself known with an especially strong beat.

  
It certainly made concentrating on the anime in front of him a difficult task, but that didn't matter when Takato took Tenma's face in his hands and gently kissed him.   
  


(He wasn't the tall blond that Tenma actually wanted, but he would make do with what he had.) 


	6. May 2007

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tenma catches the attention of Coach Ukai.

“It’s only after you’ve stepped outside your comfort zone that you begin to change, grow, and transform.” - Roy T. Bennett

 

* * *

 

Not wanting a repeat of his first year, Tenma dutifully watched as many volleyball matches he could get his little hands on for anything that could give him an edge on the court. It wasn't until he saw a short-for-an-American player purposely spike the ball against the fingers of the opposing team several times in a match that Tenma was inspired to try the same. Anything to get the attention of the coach, and a miniscule chance to actually wear a black uniform. 

After the weakest of the first years had dropped out of the club, the practice schedule had settled into morning conditioning and calisthenics, and afternoon skills development and single set scrimmages. The second gym was just large enough to hold two volleyball courts if they were willing to sacrifice court length, and with the size of the club, this was needed. Tenma looked over towards where the regulars honed their game sense, longing to be on the other court, rather than endlessly practice receiving as if he were a libero that his height made people expect him to be. 

On one of those special days where the bench warmers actually got a chance to play, Tenma decided that it was now or never. He rotated to the front, and his heart skipped a beat as he faced Tsukishima-san through the net. Even with the taller boy in a crouched, readied position and Tenma still standing tall, Tenma's eyes were level with Tsukishima-san's well-formed chest that Tenma determinedly did not sneak glances at while they changed. This view was one of the few perks of playing with the second string players. 

The serve went up from the other side, which was cleanly received by Tenma's opposite, curving nicely to the setter. Tenma screamed, “Left!”, and as he moved into position, his heart jumped as the ball actually moved in his direction. With a tall leap, Tenma took to the air, and saw that Tsukishima did as well, using his long arms to try and roof him. It was a club joke, that despite how high Tenma could jump, he was ridiculously easy to block. What they didn't know was that Tenma had a few new tricks up his sleeve. 

Tsukishima-san arched his arms above Tenma, forming the edge of a three-man block. Tenma spiked upwards, through the gaps in Tsukishima-san's fingers, the middle blocker and setter each in fine blocking form. The ball curved upwards and out into a nice one-touch, until it hit just past the back line of the court. With the point given to his team, Tenma rotated to the right, until he was in the center.

His own team served the ball, and as the other side rallied and prepared their own assault, the same strong defensive player that had picked up the ball in the last rally had done it again, leading Tenma to yell, “Center!” 

The ball moved in his direction, and his heart skipped a beat at the thought that he might actually be trusted with plays. Scanning the hands of the blockers in front of him, there weren't as many glaring holes in the two-man block in front of him, so Tenma moved into a cross, bouncing the ball against the other setter's fingertips, until it landed just inside the line on the other side of the court. 

There were murmurs from all around, enough that Tenma could feel Coach Ukai's piercing gaze levelled in his direction, and he had the distinct feeling that he was being watched more than normal. His team's serve once again was returned to his court, and the setter tossed the ball in his direction once again, and as the three blockers tightened the gaps between their fingers, the defence moved to the back for the high arc of a one-touch. Seeing the nice empty center section, Tenma tipped the ball, and the soft bounces of the ball hitting hardwood was music to his ears. 

After the cheers from his team died down, Tenma caught a rare smile on the coach's face. Before he knew it, Tenma was pulled to play a game with the first string team, and there was a wild gleam in the coach's eye as Tenma used tricks and cunning to get around the best team Ukai had assembled in years. 

When Tenma paused to catch his breath, he caught Tsukishima-san regarding him with a calculating, almost unreadable look. 

 


	7. April 2013

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tenma returns to volleyball.

"My friends, love is better than anger. Hope is better than fear. Optimism is better than despair. So let us be loving, hopeful and optimistic. And we’ll change the world.” - Jack Layton

* * *

 

He was a little winded from being out of shape, but he saw Tsukishima on the other side of the net, and his own setter tossed nice and high, easy pickings even for a wing spiker as rusty as Tenma. Despite the years since he had been on the court, there were some things that would stay in his muscle memory as if it was written there with indelible ink. Taking a running start, Tenma leaped into the air, looking straight into Tsukishima's eyes as the other’s long arms reached over the net to block Tenma's attack. The height and the speed of the ball telegraphed the few options that remained, but Tenma noticed that of the three-man block in front of him, Tsukishima's fingers were spread ever so slightly further apart than he needed, and grinned at the small opening offered to him.

By the time that the ball reached his hand, Tenma spiked it at the tips of Tsukishima's fingers. The ball flew in a high arc towards the back of the court, falling well out-of bounds. A proud smile appeared on Tenma's face as he could hear the prickly captain on the other side mumble something about “short shit-heads.” Tenma's smile grew wide with pride, and he caught Tsukishima's laugh at the profanity-laden reaction. “Just like old times, eh?”

"Well, it's clear that your brother got the blocking ability in your family."

  
Tsukishima laughed, and Tenma remembered the amazing performance the younger Tsukishima put on during his run at Nationals. 

Tsukishima went under the net to swipe at Tenma, but even as he dodged Tsukishima's light-hearted attack, he could see the smile on his friend's face.

"You'll have to try better than that, old man! And I'm _rusty_."

After they had cleaned up after practice, Tenma followed Tsukishima and the team to a bar near the gym. Tenma stayed two steps behind Tsukishima until they reached the table that the team eventually surrounded, and Tsukishima helped guide one of the beer glasses to settle in front of Tenma. 

It was tight quarters around the table, so the fact that Tenma was brushing elbows with his very attractive friend meant next to nothing in the grand scheme of things, except for the bursts of electricity that would course through his body at every minute contact their bodies would make. Based off the furtive glances he stole from above his beer glass towards his tall friend, Tenma was sure that Tsukishima had noticed something too.

As his new teammates stumbled off into the distance, heavy with drink, Tenma was thrown off-kilter as Tsukishima tugged him into the shadows along the side of the small bar. He had drank enough alcohol that the world spun a little, so by the time Tenma got his bearings, he could feel the rough wood siding digging into his back, and he looked up into Tsukishima’s face as the other loomed largely over him, effectively pinning him against the wall. Before his slowed mind could catch up, Tenma’s hand snaked upwards until it caressed Tsukishima’s neck.

“You’re such a shit disturber,” Tsukishima murmured, before he leaned down to capture Tenma in a heated kiss, tangling his hands through Tenma’s past-the-shoulder length hair.

By the time they broke apart, gasping for air, Tenma blurted, “I’ll gladly be a shit disturber if this is what I get.”

Tsukishima laughed into Tenma’s head, who leaned into the contact, both content and hungry for more.


	8. May 2006

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tenma deals with his first Ukai Special Golden Week Training Camp.

"Growth is painful. Change is painful. But nothing is as painful as staying stuck somewhere you don't belong.” – Mandy Hale

* * *

 

Just as Tenma was getting used to Ukai's strict training schedule, he attended the mandatory Golden Week training camp. Once Ukai no longer had restrictions such as a school day to give the players a break, the same intensity that made morning and afternoon practices so brutal was maintained throughout the entire day. Tenma had expected a jump in intensity, but he hadn't expected this. It left Tenma tired enough that when there was a medium-sized earthquake in the middle of the first night, he slept through the entire ordeal.

It was halfway through the week, and after being forcibly woken up to go get breakfast, Tenma blearily shuffled toward where the other boys were eating. His eyes were barely open, and he slowly got the food to his mouth, but with each bite, Tenma gradually became more aware of his surroundings.

What was different about this particular morning, was that the ubiquitous chatter wasn't present, and it wasn't until Tenma was half done his breakfast and his eyes were fully open that he realized why. Every boy in the room was stealing glances in his direction, and as he turned to face each boy in turn, each one of them averted their eyes quickly and whispered amongst themselves. 

The only one brave enough to meet his gaze was Tsukishima-senpai, who looked like he was about to burst into laughter at the sight of Tenma's face. While the tall blond took his tray of dirty dishes to where they were being collected, he leaned in close to Tenma’s face, and whispered, “You may want to look in a mirror when you get a chance.”

Tenma nodded in acknowledgement, and kept looking around the room as he finished his meal to find snickers and soft laughter.

When he finally had a chance to reach a mirror, Tenma finally joined in the laughter. Drawn on his face were comically large, black eyebrows, angled in such a way that when he laughed (which was often), it made him look like the villain in a western cartoon. He was in the middle of applauding his senpai for a humorous prank when he saw that where his eyebrows normally ended was greyed, and the texture stubbled from a razor. He punched the stone wall beside the mirror, and gave his reflection a hearty headbutt, letting the pain push out the panic at the fact that once the permanent marker wore off, Tenma would be without eyebrows.

It took a few moments of mourning his lost body hair before he remembered that they were in the school, and while stealing supplies to get retribution would probably get him suspended if he were caught, the administration could take a single look at him and they’d at least understand. 

“Tachibana and Yamada.” Tenma jolted at the sound of Tsukishima-senpai’s gentle voice, and turned to find that the older boy was regarding him with pity that quickly turned to amusement as a plan formulated in his brain, trying to figure out how much time he had left before Ukai would rip out his kidney at being late.

Tenma dashed towards the art room, took the first jars of glitter that were readily accessible, and made his way to the third year room using all the speed and nimbleness that he could muster. Finding the bags that he needed on the opposite side of the room, Tenma rifled through the contents, spreading the glitter liberally throughout all the layers of packed clothing, until the jars were empty.

(His eyebrows didn’t grow back for two months, and he got yelled at until Ukai was blue in the face, but the look on Tsukishima-senpai’s face as Yamada still glittered two weeks later was worth the entire ordeal.)


	9. September 2013

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tenma wakes up early, and has thoughts.

“Some of the most beautiful things we have in life comes from our mistakes.” – Surgeo Bell

* * *

 

Tenma woke to a slightly unfamiliar room, lit brightly with the morning sun making its appearance through the window. He flipped onto his back, and he stretched out the kinks in his back from sleeping on Akiteru’s old futon, noting how his muscles protested his return to volleyball, that dull ache pervading his entire body so that he couldn’t forget the time he spent away from the sport. As he stretched his limbs over Akiteru to pull him into an early morning embrance, the pull of other muscles (not used in volleyball) left a smile on his face at the memory.

This was enough for Akiteru to grumble and pin Tenma down in his half-sleep. “’S too early,” the taller man slurred, a faint whine creeping into his gravelly, tired voice. It was comforting, really, to have this particular weight on his chest, rather than the existential dread that he had been carrying since he started university.

Instead, Tenma closed his eyes, taking in the warmth of his partner’s body as he felt himself drift slowly. In the haze of half-sleep, Tenma’s mind wandered amongst the eddies his thoughts created. While on the outside he was a NEET with little to look forward except volleyball, it was a lazy weekend morning, and Tenma had secured a job starting the coming week. It was only at a conbini, but it was certainly better than nothing.

Before he could fully drift back into dreamland, Tenma heard a rumble coming from Akiteru’s stomach, followed by a drawn out groan from the other man. Pushing Akiteru off of him, Tenma rose from the futon and made his way towards the tiny cooking area and started rifling through the cupboards in search of something to eat. Turning his nose up at the boxed convenience foods that his boyfriend seemed to favour, Tenma put rice in the cooker while he catalogued the entirety of Akiteru’s fridge.

By the time that the rice was finished, Tenma found a carton of eggs and a jar of natto to round out the simple breakfast, he felt a long pair of arms gently wrap around him. Akiteru kissed the top of his head, nuzzling slightly into Tenma’s short, unruly hair. He had gotten accustomed to having the longer hair, and even though the haircut was in an attempt to make him more marketable to employers, Tenma quickly found that he liked the feeling of Akiteru running his hands through his hair and not having them get tangled in the length.

Akiteru rested the weight of his head on top of Tenma’s, and the smaller man felt his boyfriend’s arms go slack. Tenma could barely hear the soft snore, as he was forced to support Akiteru’s eighty kilos and nearly two-meters of height. With a poke to the ribs, Tenma jolted Akiteru awake just long enough to deposit him at the table.

As Tenma served up the food, he loaded extra natto onto Akiteru’s serving of rice, and very little onto his own. Akiteru perked up at the sight of the finished meal in front of him, making him look like less of a zombie. 

While the first rays of sunshine entered through the apartment window, the light caught on the wisps of the blond ends of Akiteru’s to give an other-worldly effect, as if Akiteru were a benevolent spirit and Tenma was the grateful worshipper.

(Akiteru was no angel: he took great pleasure in being responsible for Tenma’s vocal tendencies which were answered with loud thumps on the other side of the thin walls.)

With food in him and finally awake, Akiteru left to clear up the dishes, and left Tenma to bask in the warm sunbeam that had crept through the window, and into his thoughts. He rested back on his elbows, tilted his head back, and smiled at the warmth overtaking him.

It wasn’t long before Tenma felt Akiteru’s arm wrap around his middle, and when he righted his head, it was to see Akiteru, bathed in the same unearthly glow, smiling as he looked into Tenma’s eyes.

“You look like you’re deep in thought. Or about to go to sleep.” Akiteru’s smile turned into a smirk as his eyes glittered with mischief. “And you call me an old man.”

Tenma huffed. “Just because I’ve slept through an earthquake during the first time where I knew true exhaustion, doesn’t mean I always do that.”

At that, Tenma flopped down fully onto the floor, and looked up at the ceiling. “Have you ever thought about whether something was meant to be, only at a specific time? I feel like I peaked too early sometimes.”

Akiteru shuffled around, until he was in a position to rest his head on Tenma’s stomach. “I like to think that things happen for a reason.” He paused, and moved his head until he could almost make eye contact. “But that never means it’s too late.

“I mean--,” Akiteru flopped his arms to punctuate his point-- “I fucked up my relationship with my brother for years because I was too afraid to lose his admiration. It took over  _ five years _ for him to smile in my direction without me bribing him with strawberry shortcake.”

Flipping himself around and crawling up Tenma’s body until they were completely face to face, Akiteru smiled softly. “It’s never too late. It just might take a little bit more effort.”

Tenma pulled Akiteru down towards him, eliciting a squawk from the taller man as he did not expect the maneuver. The joke was on him, as Akiteru used his practiced brute force from many more spiked volleyballs until Tenma’s hands were pinned above his head, and Akiteru loomed over him. 

_ Maybe,  _ Tenma thought _ , this happened at just the right time. _


End file.
